In truth the canoe slipped rapidly through the water with the
expenditure of only a moderate amount of energy on the part of
Dick & Co.

In a few minutes the lake had been crossed. A point was found
at which the launch could be backed in. By this time the boys
were on shore, their canoe hauled up, and they stood ready to
help their guests ashore.

"We've landed a little below the camp," said Dick, "but it won't
take us more than a minute to walk there. After we've taken
you into the camp we'll return for the garden truck."

Gr-r-r-r-r! came a warning sound through the bushes.

"Towser!" spoke Harry Hazelton sharply. "I'm ashamed of you!"

"You ought to be!" came the answer in another voice, and a surly
one, at that.

"Fred Ripley?" muttered Dick. "What on earth can he be doing
here?"

Unconsciously all of the picnickers hastened their steps. Then
they came upon a truly ludicrous sight.

Fred lay where he had been lying ever since ten o'clock that morning.
He was coatless, stretched out face downward, with Towser still
camped across his shoulder, and the dog's teeth still fastened
in his shirt.